


Exercise #2

by wheel_pen



Series: Viridian Mal [13]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fish out of Water, Gen, Imprinting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 14:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mal finally finds something he likes to do in the gym.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exercise #2

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Viridians appear human, but are actually aliens who imprint on other people (Viridian or otherwise) and form a bond with them. They also live their entire life cycle in about six Earth years.
> 
> 2\. In each series, a different character is a Viridian, who was raised by mean Klingons on an outpost. An Enterprise crewmember is captured by the Klingons and they inadvertently form a bond with the Viridian, who helps them escape. Then they return to rescue the Viridian and bring them aboard the Enterprise. The Viridian homeworld is contacted and the Enterprise crew learn the Viridian will most likely die if they are sent away. So they end up staying on the Enterprise, and the crewmember has to adjust.
> 
> 3\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

There was really no safe place for Mal to climb for fun and exercise on _Enterprise_. There was a lot of metalwork in Engineering, of course, but Trip really couldn't officially _sanction_ him climbing on that—safety violations and all. Access tubes were out of the way, but only entertained him for a few minutes—climbing straight up, then straight down, was really kind of boring. So until Trip got around to building Mal the most fantastic jungle gym of all time—which would only happen when Trip had time, so probably right about _never_ —Mal was just going to have to do something else for exercise.

After his last experience with the exercise ball Trip had restricted him to a mere _seven_ minutes in it, three below the safety limit which was indeed posted right beside the machine, along with a number of other warnings that seemed increasingly dire and bizarre. Apparently, severe injury or death could result from merely using the exercise ball without _shoes_. And Trip had never contemplated using it while intoxicated… although _now_ he couldn't get the idea out of his mind.

So that took up seven minutes. Maybe another one or two, which Trip had built in to account for the whining that inevitably accompanied his first command to Mal to get out of it. Mal liked the weight-lifting, too… at least the part where _Trip_ was lifting weights, and Mal was his spotter. Trip spent a fair amount of time trying to figure out how he could convince Mal that Trip would be rescued from peril if Mal ran on the treadmill.

Trip had tried to get Mal to join him in some basic sit-ups and push-ups, which were also quickly declared 'dull.' Trip was beginning to hate that word. It wasn't like Mal was some kind of genius who needed constant mental stimulation, after all—personally Trip would find all the kneeling around he did, fetching coffee and putting tools away, to be more boring than a few push-ups.

And of course there was no question that Mal could be separated from Trip while Trip went to the gym. No question at all. He couldn't sleep longer or read or mess with something innocuous in Engineering or eat. He couldn't even sit quietly in a corner of the gym with a data pad while Trip worked out. He wanted to do the same thing Trip was doing. Sort of. As long as it wasn't boring, of course.

So Trip ended up spending the entire time he set aside in his packed schedule for exercise worrying about what Mal might like to do, about Mal being bored, and about what mischief he might get up to _because_ he was bored. It was about to drive him crazy.

"But we usually go to the gym on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights," Mal pointed out early one Sunday morning, after Trip had dragged them both out of bed.

"Well, this time we're going _now_ ," he shot back, matching unnecessary statement for unnecessary statement. Mostly he was peeved that he himself had practically cried when his alarm went off, while Mal was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed immediately.

"But _why_ are we going now?" Mal persisted.

Here was a question Trip could answer without feeling the need to remove any of Mal's body parts. "We're going _now_ , because Friday night I had to work on the phase coupler assembly. And I'll probably be doing that again tomorrow night." He gave Mal a sideways glance. "If you have anything you'd rather be doing, feel free…"

"No. I want to go to the gym with you."

Fantastic.

There was a sizable group in the gym this time, although they were all on the mat practicing some kind of martial art. "What are they doing?" Mal whispered to him, staring, and Trip had to confess he didn't know the exact name of that particular style—the slow, graceful movements were reminiscent of _tai chi_ , but he didn't want to say for certain. Mal kept watching as he and Trip did their stretches in an unoccupied corner.

"You interested in that?" Trip asked, wondering why he hadn't thought of this before.

"Um… I don't know," Mal hedged.

"You could try it once, I'm sure," he suggested. "If you think it would be fun, and not boring." He wasn't sure if Mal would enjoy the challenge of perfecting slow, repetitive movements or if that would be as dull for him as lifting weights.

"Um… maybe," Mal said with uncertainty.

The group seemed to be taking a break, and Trip hopped up to seize his opportunity. "Come on, let's talk to the person in charge." He recognized her as an ensign in the Armory, a little older than most of Marcus's crew but far more experienced in ship's security—and not one to underestimate in a fight, either. "Hey, uh, Parma, right?" He gave her a charming smile, hoping she didn't decide to kick his butt if Mal acted up.

"That's right, Commander," she replied in a friendly but wary way. Trip wasn't sure if Marcus had chosen all his people for the suspicious glint they always had in their eyes, or if that was something they developed after working with him. "Something I can do for you?"

"Well, this is my friend Mal, maybe you've seen him around—" Trip kept turning his head, looking for Mal, who had apparently disappeared. Then he felt him gripping the back of Trip's t-shirt and peeking bashfully around his shoulder.

"Hello, Mal," Ensign Parma greeted.

"Anyway," Trip continued, when it became obvious Mal wasn't going to say anything in return, "we were watching you guys and Mal was curious about it. Do you think he could try it out?" And suddenly Trip was wondering if Parma was going to feel he was completely inconsiderate for treating the art she had no doubt spent years perfecting so casually.

But instead she just smiled and said, "Of course. We always welcome newcomers." And she seemed sincere.

There followed some awkwardness as Trip got Mal in front of him. "He's a little shy," Trip explained. "Go on now, you wanted to try it out."

"Why don't you come with me, Mal, and we'll start with some basics?" Parma suggested.

Trip gave him a little push. "I'm gonna be just over here," he added, nodding towards the stationary bikes. Parma led Mal over to a corner of the mat as Trip backed away slowly. From the mournful looks Mal was giving him, you would think Trip had sent him off to the slaughter. "Just over here," he repeated reassuringly.

Forty-five minutes later. "—it's all about the balance between opposing forces, you know, between aggressive and yielding, hard and soft, that kind of thing, and you have to go _so slow_ so you can get the balance just right, and Ensign Parma says it's like meditation, you clear your mind and just concentrate on the movement—"

"It's amazing," Trip agreed on the way back to their quarters. "I mean, less than an hour and you've already developed the ability to talk for ten minutes straight without taking a breath."

That gave Mal pause. "What?"

"Never mind," Trip told him. He smiled and ruffled Mal's hair. "I'm glad you like it, buddy. When's the next class?"

"Ensign Parma says they have practice every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday at 0600! Can I go Tuesday? Please please?" Mal begged excitedly.

"Well, sure, buddy," Trip shrugged. "Just don't wake me when you get up, okay?"

Mal stared at him. "I can't go by _myself_. You have to come to the gym with me." And somehow Trip knew this was not negotiable.


End file.
